


Someday...

by pendragonally



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Based on a Tumblr Post, Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, If you're looking for a happy ending, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Battle of Camlann (Merlin), Sad Ending, this is not the fic for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonally/pseuds/pendragonally
Summary: Arthur is mortally wounded in the battle of Camlann and Merlin's worst fears are realised in more ways than one.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Someday...

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This fic was based on [this](https://fishoutofcamelot.tumblr.com/post/631309778847694848/okay-yeah-arthurs-death-was-sad-or-whatever-but) tumblr post and written with permission from the OP.  
> It's angsty as hell and honestly was really difficult to write, but I wanted to write about the 'what if?'  
> What if, in the end, Arthur hadn't accepted Merlin for who he really was?
> 
> I know this fic won't be for everyone, but I was inspired by someone else's hc and they were nice enough to let me create something from it, so please be respectful. This hasn't been beta-read, so excuse any mistakes. I'm still getting used to tagging, so if I've missed any or they're not clear enough/incorrect, please let me know so I can change them!
> 
> Enjoy, and sorry in advance for any tears and broken hearts!

*****

Pain.

Merlin is no stranger to it, has learned since the day he arrived in Camelot just how many ways he can hurt.

Some of the pain has been physical, like the cramps in his stomach when he’s eaten breakfast too quickly in his rush to attend to Arthur on time or the throbbing ache in his temples the morning after the odd occasion he’s spent time in the tavern with the knights and the white hot pain when he’d fallen off his horse once when out on a hunt with Arthur and had sprained his arm so badly he’d thought he’d broken it at first.

But with the right treatment, those pains heal without any evidence that they were ever there.

Emotional pain is different. Like the grief Merlin has felt each and every time he has lost somebody he loves (and all those he barely knew) in his efforts to fulfil his destiny and protect Arthur with everything he has.

Merlin has always succeeded. Until now, he’s never failed to keep Arthur safe.

But in a split second everything changed, the world tilted and began to spin backwards and now—

Well now Merlin knows that grief and love can sometimes go hand in hand to create a pain so blinding he can barely breathe through it because Arthur is _dying_ , has spent two days slowly spilling the crimson of his life through a wound left by Mordred that Merlin can’t heal no matter how hard he tries.

His magic feels like a useless, trembling thing inside him, terrified that it’s about to lose _everything._ Arthur has grown quieter over the last few days, and Merlin tells himself that it’s because of the wound, the long journey to Avalon— anything but what he secretly fears is the truth.

That now Arthur knows he has magic, that he’s a _sorcerer_ , he’ll never see him the same way again. Whatever the outcome of this journey, Merlin fears he’s lost Arthur anyway.

But still he’ll try. He’ll try because he can’t let Arthur die. He _can’t_.

They don’t have the horses, they don’t really have anything that can help them at this point, Arthur keeps telling him to stop, that he can’t go any further but Merlin won’t listen.

_He can’t let Arthur die_.

And yet when Arthur slumps down heavily, abruptly and without much warning, all but dropping on top of Merlin, this time feels different somehow.

Like an end that’s coming, an end they can’t outrun no matter how hard they try, no matter how powerful Merlin might be— because they can’t beat Fate unless Fate wants it to be so.

“All your magic, Merlin, can't save my life.” Arthur’s voice is barely there, more gasping breaths than words and Merlin’s heart recoils in his chest like it already knows what’s coming.

“I can.” Merlin can’t give up— will never give up trying to keep the most precious thing in the world to him safe. “I’m not going to lose you,” _There can be no me if there can be no you_.

Merlin’s whole body is shaking but he staggers to his feet, holds Arthur tight against him and tries to help him stand but his efforts quickly prove futile. Arthur has no strength left and Merlin finds himself balancing on the edge of his own personal nightmare.

“Just, just leave me.” Arthur says as firmly as he can manage, struggling against Merlin’s embrace.

Merlin feels cold all over, as though every drop of blood in his veins has turned to ice. “No, Arthur why would you say that?” he holds Arthur tighter still, heart in his throat and tears on his face. “I won’t leave you alone to die.”

“I will not die in the arms of a sorcerer,” Arthur rasps, looking up at him with sapphire blue eyes full of so many emotions there isn’t enough time to process them all. Merlin wonders whose heart he can see breaking.

“I’m not _just_ a sorcerer, Arthur, I’m your friend and I don’t want to lose you, not now. Not like this,”

Arthur makes a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “I’m already lost, Merlin, and after all it was _you_ who said that there can be no place for magic in Camelot.”

“I didn’t mean— Arthur, don’t do this, please, not now.” Merlin begs, presses a hand to the side of Arthur’s face and sobs when Arthur flinches away as though Merlin struck him. “I’m sorry, I love you more than anything and I’m _sorry_.” Merlin’s whole heart comes spilling out before he can stop it, desperate and terrified and close to tearing itself apart. “Please Arthur— _please_ don’t send me away.”

Arthur struggles again, shaking his head and reaching out to grasp at the grass in an effort to pull away. “Merlin, if you’ve ever cared for me at all just… _leave!_ ”

Much too loyal and much too in love to cause Arthur more pain in what are now so clearly his last moments, Merlin, for once, does exactly as he’s told.

Swallowing hard, Merlin takes a single deep breath, ignores the smell of metal, blood and a life almost lost and inhales the familiar scent of _Arthur_ beneath all of that, warm and still comforting even though the world is ending. He imagines that he can still smell the lavender water that he’s spent the better part of a decade combing into the golden blonde of Arthur’s hair.

Merlin exhales—

Lays Arthur down on the grass gently, squeezes his eyes shut and dares to press a whisper of a kiss to Arthur’s head, so light Arthur won’t even feel it—

And lets him go.

Merlin doesn't open his eyes again until he’s taken several stumbled steps away. Far enough that Arthur won’t be able to see him but close enough that he’ll hear Arthur’s voice should he call for him.

But no words ever come.

All Merlin can hear is the gentle rustle of the trees around them and the ragged inhale exhale of Arthur’s breathing, growing more fragile by the second.

From here Merlin can still see the tears on Arthur’s face, the flutter of his eyelashes and the way morning lights them up like blue flames even as they flicker into embers. Merlin can feel Arthur’s heart splitting, wonders if Arthur can feel his too… wants nothing more than to take Arthur in his arms and hold him one last time because this is it— he’ll never get the chance again. He knows this, but still he chooses to respect the wishes of his king.

Merlin wraps his arms around his own body and holds tightly, instead.

His magic reaches out though, frightened but determined, to wrap itself around Arthur like an invisible blanket to still his shaking hands and settle his fearful heart. Merlin’s magic does what he cannot do himself— it holds Arthur tightly, whispers silently that it loves him and that it’s _okay_ , _it’s okay to go, Arthur, do not be frightened._

Moments later Arthur stills, his eyes close and when he breathes out Merlin prays for a rasping inhale that never comes. It’s over.

When Arthur lets go of this world and his soul begins its journey to the next, Merlin feels it like the earth has been torn out from under him and he’s falling into an endless pit of black emptiness, like he is being crushed from all sides and his bones are cracking beneath the pressure, the fractured pieces piercing his organs until there’s no blood left to flow— Merlin feels it like his own soul has been taken too.

Perhaps, at least in part, it has.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouts, hoarse and broken.

Unable to stand there a second longer he rushes back to Arthur’s side, drops down next to him and takes his pale face in both hands. “Arthur!” he chokes on a sob, almost forgetting how to breathe. “No, stay with me Arthur _please_ … come back. I said I’d protect you or die at your side and I’m still here so don’t you dare go somewhere I can’t follow. _Arthur!_ ” He shakes Arthur though he knows there’s no point, presses their foreheads together and waits for the earth to fracture around him, beneath him, all around him.

He probably won’t even notice. The world as he knows it is already ending.

Instinct and anguish has Merlin screaming for Kilgharrah, his voice tearing from his throat and echoing back at him until all he can hear is his own grief.

Only the sound of Kilgharrah’s great wings breaks his cries. “Kilgharrah. I would not have summoned you if there was any other choice. I have one last favour to ask.”

His old friend needs no further explanation, carries both he and Arthur to the lake, sets them down carefully and watches silently as Merlin desperately tries to drag Arthur to the small boat that will take them to salvation.

“Merlin. There is nothing you can do.”

Merlin chokes back a sob, refuses to let Arthur go. “No, there _has_ to be something… please, I’ll do anything just tell me how to bring him back.”

“I am sorry, young warlock,”

“I can’t lose him! I _love_ him!” Merlin shouts, tears streaming endlessly down his face, and Kilgharrah looks at him like he’s known this all along, like Merlin’s secret heart has never been a secret at all. “Our destiny cannot end like this. Arthur can’t die hating me…”

“As I have told you before Merlin, a half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole.” Kilgharrah tells him kindly, gently, but it does nothing to soothe Merlin nor does it slow the black hole of grief and loss expanding inside of him.

Merlin shakes his head, holds Arthur tighter than ever like his embrace somehow has the power to change things. There’s no point of course, Merlin doesn’t have the power to change anything.

He never has, and he feels stupid for ever believing that he could keep Arthur safe until old age. “It makes no difference. Arthur is gone— destiny means nothing anymore…” Merlin trails off, unsure of what he’s even trying to say in the first place.

That he doesn't know what he’s supposed to do now. That he failed to do the one thing he’s dedicated his life to. That maybe, in the end, it wasn’t about destiny, Camelot, or even Albion.

Maybe in the end, it was Arthur himself that Merlin was desperate to see grow and flower for years to come. Now that will never happen.

“Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold. Merlin... Arthur is not just a King— he is the Once and Future King.” Kilgharrah tells him. “Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock— the story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.”

When Kilgharrah takes flight a moment later, Merlin knows it’ll be the last he ever sees of him.

Merlin is truly alone.

After that, the world blurs. Time has no meaning and Merlin can’t recall the things he’s done mere moments after he’s done them. He doesn’t remember throwing Excalibur into the lake, doesn’t remember going through the motions of laying Arthur to rest in that little wooden boat, tears on his face as he whispers goodbye over and over even though he knows he’ll never truly let go.

Arthur is Merlin’s forever, always has been, always will be— even if that forever must now be faced with half of his soul shrouded in shadow, lost in darkness without Arthur’s light to guide him.

Maybe one day, Merlin will learn to shine on his own.

But for now Merlin stands there on the shores of Avalon, trembling and sobbing, his heart in pieces scattered to the wind as he watches that boat carry Arthur away across the still water until he can barely even make out the shape of it.

What he’s supposed to do now, Merlin does not know. He can't linger here any more than early morning mist can but he knows that he can’t return to Camelot either.

How can he stand there before Gwen, his _Queen_ , before the knights who have always treated him like a friend and Gaius who has been like a father to him, and tell them that he failed?

That Arthur— that their beloved king is _dead_ because of him.

_There can be no place for magic in Camelot._

Arthur couldn’t forgive him, in the end, and so Merlin can’t forgive himself. Not now. Not yet, he needs time. He needs to grieve, to stitch closed the wounds torn into him with Arthur’s passing and he can’t do that in Camelot.

And so Merlin does the only thing he can. He takes a deep breath, turns away from the lake and he _walks_. Where to? He has no idea; all he knows now is that he’s leaving the same way he arrived all those years ago.

Alone.

Perhaps he’ll return in the future. Perhaps Kilgharrah’s words will ring true, Arthur will rise again and will need Merlin by his side once more. Next time, Merlin won’t lose something so precious.

Next time… someday in a far off future not yet written, Merlin will get the chance to right that which was done wrong and do things _differently_.

Someday, Merlin’s _I’m sorry_ and _I love you more than anything_ won’t be too late.

Someday, his king will come back to him.

Someday, Arthur will understand, will forgive Merlin and maybe, just maybe—

Arthur will love him in return…

… Someday.

*****

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought and thank you so much for reading! ♡ I cried writing this, and struggled with it in general tbh so I'm sorry if it doesn't flow as well as my other works (any hateful comments will automatically be deleted and not responded to, so don't waste your time).


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